Haunt
by Pasha Pasha
Summary: Sometimes we see things that we can't explain. Jango/Zam. One-shot.


Zam sat on the floor of Slave I, curled up with her legs pressed tightly to her chest as she listened for an intake of breath that never came. It was only logical. The dead did not need oxygen. She no longer had a physical body, but somehow, everything ached. She longed for familiarity, for things to return to the way they were before the alley and the dart in her neck. Maybe that's why she was here, on the floor of Slave I, as her killer navigated his way back to Kamino. How many times had she been on this ship, alongside her very murderer as an accomplice, a friend, and sometimes something more?

Zam somehow forced herself to take a long, shuddering breath. Even as she breathed, no air moved to fill her lungs, so it should have been impossible for her to cry. Somehow, though, she managed. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have been tricked into believing even for a moment that her life held even a shred of significance to her murderer?

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the hull of the ship. She wondered why she didn't fall through the floor and into space, into eternity. Wasn't that's what death was? Slowly, Zam got to her feet and pressed her hands together. She didn't feel dead, not really. She could still feel, though her senses all felt dull, muted. Her emotions, however, were a different story. She felt anger, loss, and grief just as keenly as she did when she was alive; perhaps she felt even more.

She walked numbly to the control center of the ship, where Jango Fett sat in the pilot's seat, his face inscrutable behind his helmet. Zam walked up behind him and placed her hand tentatively on his shoulder. The action elicited no response. Zam sighed, "Ignoring me again, Fett?" She whispered. He didn't react. Of course he didn't. The dead couldn't speak to the living.

Zam sighed again and hesitantly sat in the co-pilot's seat next to Jango, a place that still felt familiar, despite the circumstances. She looked over at him, searching for any sign of sorrow or remorse for what he had done. His helmet shielded his face from analysis, making him appear as emotionless as ever to an unfamiliar observer. His shaking hands, however, did not escape Zam's sight. "Are you sorry?" Zam whispered, "It's a little late for that, don't you think, Jango?" Silence was the only response to her question.

Zam turned to stare out the window. Kamino loomed in front of them as the ship approached. Clusters of storm clouds whipped past as they passed into its atmosphere. Soon, Zam could hear the sound of rain pounding against the hull of the ship. It was a sound that Zam had become accustomed to before her death and brought back countless memories of her former life. She did her best to ignore them as the ship landed smoothly on the glowing landing platform. Zam looked back over at Jango, expecting him to get up, leave the ship, and go back to living his life, as if Zam had never even existed.

Instead, he stayed put, his head bowed as if in prayer. It was a while before he got up and removed his helmet before making his way out of the ship and onto the rain soaked platforms. Zam followed close behind, an unseen shadow to his movements. Jango didn't walk towards the entrance to the main building. Instead, he walked in the opposite direction, towards the more isolated platforms. Despite the pouring rain, Jango kept his helmet off as he walked, keeping it tucked under one arm as if he had forgotten it.

After what seemed like an age of walking over countless platforms and walk ways, he stopped at one of the most secluded platforms and simply stood, letting the rain soak him to the bone. Zam circled him, trying to seem detached as she watched. She could've sworn he was crying, but for all she knew the tears were simply raindrops. She stopped in front of him, looking into his eyes. He stared right through her, like the ghost she was. "Can't you see me, Jango?" She asked, even though she knew the answer, "I'm right here." A flash of lightning accompanied her words.

Jango's eyes suddenly widened and locked with Zam's. Zam froze when she realized he could see her. It shouldn't have been possible. The living weren't supposed to be able to see the dead. It should have been impossible, but Zam could tell from the look in Jango's eyes that somehow, it wasn't. Not anymore.

"Zam..." He breathed. He sounded so hopeful, desperate for her to be real. Slowly, almost reverently, he reached out for her, to prove to himself that she was still alive, to end the nightmare he'd brought upon himself, to redeem what he had done. Zam gasped and pulled away on instinct. It was hard to go back to trusting someone who had killed you only a few hours earlier.

Jango didn't move for a moment, before his arm lowered to his side and his eyes strayed from Zam's. She was nonexistent again, invisible. He looked around, troubled and confused. His gaze returned to the spot where Zam had been standing. Zam thought she'd never seen him look so crushed. He stayed on the platform for a few more minutes, as if hoping that Zam would reappear if he waited long enough. Eventually, though, he turned away. With an almost inaudible sigh, he walked away from the platform and back towards his home, his life.

This time, Zam didn't follow him.


End file.
